


Gladys Goes Kamikaze

by kattahj



Category: A Sudden Wild Magic - Diana Wynne Jones, Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-22
Updated: 2009-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-03 13:30:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattahj/pseuds/kattahj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lawrence has forsworn women. Gladys has been a widow for years. Should be a perfectly safe situation. You'd think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gladys Goes Kamikaze

Lawrence had planted the last onion and was patting the ground firmly when a wolf whistle came from behind.

"That is one nice bottom!"

He stood up, turned around in what he hoped was a majestic manner, and stared down his nose at Gladys. "I _beg_ your pardon?"

"My Len had one just like it, of course," Gladys said, smirking at him. "Most men your age have flabby bottoms - flabby or scrawny. But yours is lovely."

He felt his face heat. "Try to control yourself, woman!"

"Why should I? You're practically my husband, after all."

Not for the first time, Lawrence wondered why oh why the King had chosen to punish him in this fashion. Surely Arth hadn't been _that_ poorly run? Even considering the problems caused by the way Arth had milked ideas from Otherworld, Lawrence had certainly tried his best, and to be forced to live alongside this batty old woman, with her insolent attitude and innumerable cats, was much too cruel. Not to mention those dresses she wore. This one was cotton, with little flowers all over, and it was Lawrence's decided opinion that she had chosen it specifically to pester him: the way her knees showed, and the colour matched her eyes, and the belt was placed at just the right place to accentuate her own... shapes.

"I most certainly am not," he said stiffly. "Need I remind you that the brothers of Arth are _celibate_?"

"Right," she said, looking unbelievably smug. "And you enjoyed that, did you?"

He opened his mouth, then realized that he had nothing to say and closed it again, settling for breathing out slowly through his nose.

She laughed. Laughed! "That's what I thought. My Len was just the same. You wouldn't know it from the sight of him, oh no, but once he got started there was no stopping him."

"Let me get one thing straight," he said, stepping closer. "I am not your Len. I do not wish to hear another word about your Len, especially not if we are to pursue..." He realized he had stepped a little _too_ close. He could feel the warmth of her body next to his, and those eyes of hers were too blue for comfort.

"Pursue?" she prodded.

"You're not acting your age, you know."

"I'm not?"

"No. You behave like some shameless... wench."

"Hm," she said with a shrug. "Shame is better suited on young people. If we don't have fun now, when will we?"

Her words were starting to sound like sense, which was a sure sign he was spiralling out of control. Another sure sign was that he was kissing her - a deep, hard kiss that had her make a delighted little sigh and grab that bottom of his she'd been on about before.

"A bit bossy, are we?" she gasped, out of breath, when he let go. "That's good. My... Well. I like that in a man."

"You're a horrible woman," he muttered.

"Been dying for a shag, Lawrence." She leaned in even closer and whispered in his ear, low enough to send shivers down his spine, "Haven't you?"

"Hm," he growled, finding himself increasingly inarticulate.

"Ages since I had a good hard romp." She said the last three words in staccato. "Still may have some props around, though."

"Props?"

"Silk scarves. Riding whip."

He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining it. "Go get them."

The space her body left when she slipped away from his arms was almost too much to take, and he added, "wench," just to see her turn back, which she did, and give him a smile, which she did - accompanied by her tongue sticking out at him.

He watched her go inside and then shook his head slowly, running his fingers through his hair and trying to ignore those blasted cats giving him superior glances.

Well. He supposed if you were going to break a vow of celibacy, you might as well do it in style.


End file.
